Oh, So You JUST Noticed a Year’s Worth of Deliveries in Your Garage?

Ah yes, another day, another “I never signed up for this” call from a customer who has miraculously discovered an entire year’s supply of supplements in their garage. Wow. How mysterious. How shocking. Almost like… they ordered them. But no, no, of course not. That would be too logical.

Let’s break down how these conversations usually go, shall we?

Step 1: The Sudden Revelation

The customer calls in, voice dripping with righteous outrage:
“I just found SIX MONTHS—no, wait, A YEAR—worth of supplements in my garage that I NEVER ordered!”

First of all, let’s pause.

A whole year? A year’s worth of packages just… chilling? Collecting dust next to old holiday decorations and a treadmill you swore you’d use? And you mean to tell me that you—a fully functioning adult (I assume)—never once noticed a growing tower of deliveries inside your own home?

I don’t even need Sherlock Holmes to solve this case.

Step 2: The Bank Statement “Shocker”

“I was just looking at my bank statement and—OH MY GOSH—I’VE BEEN CHARGED FOR MONTHS!”

Yes. Yes, you have.
Because you signed up.
Because you gave us your credit card.
Because you agreed to it.

What, do you think elves snuck into your house, swiped your debit card, and placed a fraudulent order for vitamins? Did a rogue supplement fairy commit identity theft just to grace you with auto-deliveries?

No. It was you, Brenda. It. Was. You.

Step 3: The Return Request That Defies All Logic

“I need a full refund for every single one of these bottles. They’re UNOPENED!”

That’s nice.
But also, our return policy is 30 days—not 365 and beyond.

Let’s do a quick math lesson:
👉 30 days ≠ A Year
👉 30 days ≠ “I forgot I ordered this” insurance
👉 30 days ≠ “Let me ignore my bank statements and come back when it’s convenient”

And then, Debbie enters the chat.
“Let me speak to someone who can actually help.”

Oh, Debbie. Debbie, Debbie, Debbie. What do you think is going to happen here? Do you think I’m hiding a magical refund button under my desk, refusing to press it out of sheer spite? Would you like me to pass you to mythical refund wizard Gary who will make your dreams come true?

No, Debbie. I’ll transfer you.
But not to someone who can “help.”
Just to another underpaid human who will tell you the same thing—probably with less patience than I did.

Step 4: The Great Corporate Sellout

Here’s the real kicker: We escalate the call. The company reviews the clearly fraudulent return request. And what do they do?

🥁🥁🥁 They approve it.

Why?
Because, apparently, the world revolves around making these customers “happy.”
As if we’re in the happiness business.

Listen, we’re not the sun. We’re not here to radiate warmth and joy.
We get paid to process transactions, not heal your emotional wounds.

I’m sorry if you’re not happy with the fact that your own irresponsibility cost you money. But let’s be honest—if a year’s worth of mystery boxes in your garage wasn’t a big enough red flag, maybe it’s not our customer service policies that need fixing.

Final Thought: The Customer Service Stigma

Why is it that if we don’t give you everything you demand, you go off signing petitions against our company like we personally ran over your childhood pet?

You made a mistake.
Own it.
Move on.

Even Santa doesn’t give good gifts to bad children. So why should we be handing out freebie refunds to grown adults throwing tantrums?

If you’re really that unhappy, maybe the solution isn’t harassing customer service reps.
Maybe—just maybe—you should get your life together.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to prepare for the next call.
Because I’m sure there’s another Debbie out there with a fresh complaint.